


In The Dying Light

by DigitalMoriarty



Category: Archie Comics, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Drabble Collection, Everyone Dies But It's Sort of Okay, Everyone is friends at the end of the world, Humanity is both awful and wonderful, Mentions of Suicide, Other, Reggie Mantle/Cheryl Blossom, Shoving that into additional tags because it's not quite as prominent as the others?, Soft Apocalypse, This has a playlist if anyone wants the link, Yay for Snake Cults?, set in the far future
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 08:52:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10636488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DigitalMoriarty/pseuds/DigitalMoriarty
Summary: The last days of a dying world. They are the last bright flames in the darkness, left to rage against the encroaching dark.And everyone is the broken, shattered pieces of better selves.





	1. Here They Stand, Looking Into the Void

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NotQuiteHumanAnymore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotQuiteHumanAnymore/gifts).



He thinks about the robots.

About the ancient machines that scientists of ages past put on the moon and Mars and Venus and sent out into the vast darkness.

About their names.

Spirit and Curiosity and Explorer and Hope and Creativity.

He knows a couple of them are even still functioning. Or, at least, they were.

He wonders if the deep space probes (The last of which was sent out before his grandmother was born) will find anything.

If they will find _anyone_.

Will they tell whoever finds them of the humans that had loved them so much? Or are they like their creators. Doomed to a future of drifting in the dark.

 

He's got what he calls the Long Dark Transmission Station. He started work on it after he found the paperwork denying his parents a spot on the last colony ship.

Their genetics would not have contributed enough.

He was seven when he found that paperwork.  
He was seven and a genius and he knew, even then, that there was no hope.

Now, he uses it to broadcast what Jughead writes into the void.

He knows how these things work, okay? And he knows what he's doing. Long after they are all dust, the Long Dark transmissions will keep going, out into the endless night.

If he's lucky, one of the generation ships will pick it up. If not... well, he's made some estimates. Taking into account signal degradation, possible errors in algorithm repetition, and what he knows about the location of the planets the colony ships were aiming for, in a couple hundred thousand years, he will hopefully confuse the _fuck_  out of the descendants of humanity.  
  
  
And he keeps what Jughead has titled "A Final Scream of Defiance" taped to his wall. Jughead occasionally rewrites it, adds to it, edits it, and when he does, Dilton updates his copy.

It will be the last thing he puts into the Long Dark.  
It will be the last thing he sends out into the black. A manifesto of sorts. A will. An obituary.  
The last words of a dying people, a dying world.  
A final rage, when the light has finally gone out.

 

He knows, with a growing certainty that he has only shared with a few people, that he can count the tomorrows they have left. He will not have another birthday. Not if his math is right. And his math hasn't been wrong yet.

He'd told Jughead, because he tells Jughead everything. And Jughead had begged him not to tell anyone else. "Let them have this. At least for a little while. Let them dream a little while longer."  
  
  
It's not like they hold anything back. They are the Dying Generation. They have always known there were only so many tomorrows left, only so many sunrises to look forward to (Do any of them look forward to it?). Why hide who you love? Why hide your passions and hatred and sorrows when the clock is winding down?  What would giving them a number change, other than to add pressing dread to the day to day exhaustion of existence?  
  
  
(And Dilton is so sorry. Because Jellybean will not live to have another birthday. And Jughead had hoped with the broken and bleeding hope of the doomed and damned, that the world would be kind to his sister. And Dilton had joined him, even knowing that their world had been drained of kindness, like it had been drained of everything else. And he had a present, something special saved aside for them. A quick death, a painless death. A _better_ death than what is waiting at the end of the tomorrows.)  
  
  
And when the final day dawns, Dilton inputs the last words of their world into his machine. He pushes the buttons to put their goodbye into the space between the stars. And then he goes back to bed, and curls up next to Jughead.

And he thinks about the robots.

About their names.

About Spirit and Curiosity and all the others.

About the men and women and neither who had loved them _so much_  and been so proud.

About exceeding mission parameters and going above and beyond the call of creation.

  
  
'Tell them about us. Tell them we loved you. Tell them good things. Tell them we named you for what we aspired to.'  
  
  
And Dilton kisses Jughead's forehead one last time, and follows him into whatever lays beyond this world.


	2. And They Hold Hands, And Cling To Each Other

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's the point of high school at the end of the world?

They maintain a farce of normalcy.   
They do it because their parents did it and their parents did it and their parents did it.   
  
  
Jughead jokes about them being time travelers, sent back to the 21st century. They learn from the remains of paper books, taught by teachers who were never paid.   


But it's something to do. It's a break from surviving.   


It is a watered down lie about how things should be.   
  
  
But what else would they do? Sit and watch the plants die? Count the ever dwindling supplies? Join the local cult?   
Besides, that farce gave Jughead one of the only things he has that _matters_.   


(He has his sister and his Dilton and his friends and his words. And of them all, only the words have a chance of outliving him.)   
  
  
He's reworking his goodbye again. Dilton, late last night, had told him what was coming. And he _desperately_  wishes he could believe Dilton will be wrong.   


But Dilton hasn't been wrong yet. Not about the earthquake or the storms or... any of it.   


If Dilton says they have 58 days left, they have 58 days left.   
  
  
None of the others know. He'd made Dilton _promise_  him. What difference would it make anyway? To know when the end is coming?   


 

They'd had messy sex afterwards, full of 'I love you' and bruises and a drive to forget.   


Not who they're with. But where they are. What is waiting.   
  
  
In one of the books in the library, Dilton had found him a poem. He'd needed it translated, because he's smart but the ancient version of English half the stuff is written in gives him a headache.   
  
But when he'd heard it (Dilton reading to him in his soft, measured voice) he'd fallen in love. Because this poem, from so long ago, it might as well be about them.   
  
  
He gets Dilton to ink the _entire_ thing into his back (and he is a living tapestry of words, because for as long as he can remember, words were the only thing that lasted) along with the other snippets of meaning he's plucked from the ruins of the past.   
  
  
And the light is finally going out.   


Not all of it. Humanity has raged and raged and raged and _refused_  for so long... Surely, one of the ships they've sent out will find something. Even if they don't, the generation ships will keep humanity going for a bit longer.   


But on Earth, the candle is guttering its last.   


And he looks at his classmates, and feels the aches from last night, and the words like pressure on his spine. And he is grateful for this farce.   


 

They are the last, doomed and forsaken children of a doomed and forsaken world. 

But they still love. 

They still laugh. 

They are still _human_  in the face of encroaching oblivion.

 

  
'We were here. We loved and lost and hated and forgave. We were here and we **REFUSE** to be forgotten'   



	3. So They Will Not Be Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What loving parent brings a child into the end of the world? What loving brother wants to see what's going to come?

It's the eve of the end. And he says goodbye to his sister.   


He pets her hair and kisses the top of her head and hugs her until his arms ache.  He promises her something better, wherever she's going.   


He promises he'll see her there.   


And he is so glad, that Dilton could give him this.   


He holds her close, and hums her favorite lullaby until she is still and silent in his arms, and her chest no longer moves.   
  
  
He tucks her into her blankets, and places a dandelion between her hands. (He's not sure how Dilton coaxed into growing, but he did, and it is a bright splash of color against Jellybean's pale skin). And then he heads to Dilton's house.   


And he does everything he can to make their last time special. To make it _clear_  to anything observing them that he loves him _so much_  and he will not let the end of the world take that away.  
  
  
And he doesn't comment when Dilton cries, because he's crying too.  
  
  
And he sees the sun rise. One last time. And he watches as Dilton does the esoteric things that send his words into space.  
  
  
And he takes what Dilton gives him. (Dilton's own death will not be so easy. He _knows_  but Dilton had stood firm and would not let him refuse this gift. If one of them should have an easy death, Dilton wants it to be him.)

  
The last thing he feels, is Dilton curling around him.   


And he hopes, with a fierceness he has never felt before, that he hadn't lied to his sister. That there _is_ something good at the end of this rainbow.   


He knows though, that even if there isn't. Even if this is all there is... It will have been enough.   


He was seventeen and in love and he gave his words to the stars.   


 

There are no more tomorrows. There are no more sun rises. There is nothing but the final dying light and the snuffing out of those who rage against it.   



	4. When The Night Comes And Never Leaves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Make your bleeding feet walk a mile in these ill-fitting shoes

She puts on the Pussycats while getting ready in the morning. She's one of the only ones who has a working music player left, and that's only because she's friends with Jughead and his boyfriend can make _anything_  work again. Said boyfriend is the reason she has recordings of the Pussycats to play in the first place. The upbeat music, the songs about laughing in the rain and holding hands with the one you love, they remind her of who she _is_.   


Josie and Valerie and Melody sing about all the good things that Betty has _chosen_  to embody.  
  
  
Before she leaves, she touches Polly's hair band, tied above the cracked mirror. Polly had made a different choice. Not a _wrong_  choice. But not the choice Betty's going to make. 

"I miss you Polly. I hope you and Jason and the baby are happy," she says, the same as always. And then she leaves, the echoes of lyrics buzzing in her mind. "If it all ends, it's okay. Because we had a good run, we were smiling and laughing just yesterday"   
  
  
She goes to school, waves to everyone (sidesteps Cheryl, sitting in a patch of sunshine) and hugs Ronnie (who does not look like she belongs among the broken, but she's _here_  and not going anywhere) and Kevin (who has deep, dark circles under his eyes and is dating one of the local cultists, but he's a nice boy. If what you need to get you through things is a belief in some weird snake thing... well, you do you Joaquin. Kevin, she knows, doesn't believe in anything.)   
  
  
Jughead's talking quietly to Dilton about something, but he looks up and gives her a friendly nod when she says hello. Both of them have been crying, but she doesn't ask about it. Not because she doesn't care, but because she _does_. If either of them need her, they'll come to her. But sometimes all you can do about something is cry.   
  
  
Dilton doesn't raise his gaze from Jughead's neck (where there are always bite marks, as certain a part of Jughead's attire as his hat and his torn jeans) but she doesn't expect different. Dilton has been different the past few weeks, and Jughead's been writing even more frantically than usual.   


But she shies away from what that might mean. As much as they are _all_ ready for the last few lights to go out, that doesn't mean she's going to welcome the end with open arms.   
  
  
She kisses Archie, when she finds him (battered guitar and battered notebook and a battered heart but still holding on. They won't be following Polly and Jason. Not yet at least.) and reads his latest song. It's not like what Josie and her friends sing. Any happiness found in Archie's music is vindictive. Happiness for the sake of spite. But Archie's music is as much a part of them as what the Pussycats play.   


They, the last bits of Earth's killers, hate as fiercely as they love, and they find any outlet they can.   
  
  
She goes to what passes for class, watches Reggie work out football plays in his notebook in the seat ahead of her. Watches Jughead roll his eyes and say nothing. You do what you need to, to get through the days. And Reggie is desperate to believe the lies they are told. That there is a solution somewhere, that they can still fix everything (that they can fix _anything_ ).   


They are all staring into an empty eternity, and there is no shame in closing your eyes.   
  
  
She sees her friends again after school lets out. Sits between Ronnie and Kevin and watches Reggie and Archie toss a football back and forth. Watches Dilton and Jughead interrupt each others work with kisses. Listens to Josie and Valerie and Melody laugh and make their jokes which are so at odds with their music. Listens to Cheryl talk softly to herself about school dances and her brother's water polo career. 

They have never had a school dance and Betty's half certain Cheryl invented water polo on her own, but reality and Cheryl Blossom have never had more than a nodding acquaintance anyway.

  
  
And then she goes home, and ignores her parents (her mother is so scared she'll follow Polly, and her father is in a strange, desperate sort of denial that her sister is even _gone_ ) and goes to her room and tells Polly about her day. She _knows_  her sister is dead. But that's no reason to be rude.   
  
  
Then she marks another x on her wall. And she goes to sleep. And she pointedly does not think about tomorrow.

 

Live every day like it's the last one, because it _might_ be. 

Tell the people you love them that you love them, don't wait for a special occasion to do something special. 

_Live_ in every single moment you have.

  
It's not what everyone does. But it's the way Betty knows how to survive.   



	5. Dream of Better Things, Of Kinder Yesterdays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is there room in your dream, for another lost soul?

Reggie knows it's all a lie. He _knows_. They all know. 

But it's a lie he _needs_. 

 

He is not like Jughead, who stands at the edge of nothingness and screams his defiance. 

He is not like Archie, who dreams of salvation, of a miracle (and who puts everything else into his music). 

He is not like Kevin, who _is_  the void given form, covered over with the stereotypes of thousands of years ago.   
  
  
He is so afraid of what is coming (of what his parents doomed him to before getting themselves killed, of the inevitable) and he... he cannot admit to being afraid. Not when everyone else is so brave (and he knows that's not true, he knows he is not the only one who is afraid but it _feels_  like it, when the sun goes down and he thinks "What if it never comes up again?")   


So he takes the lies and he clings to them.  
  
  
He dreams of a different time and place. A different _Riverdale_. 

Where he has a future. 

Where the tomorrows stretch out forever. 

 

He gets Dilton to explain _everything_  about football to him, and he draws up plays and he _pretends_  with every fiber of his being that this _matters_.   
  
  
And he talks to Cheryl, who lives in a dream. Because she does not have sorrow or pity in her eyes. And maybe (just maybe) there is room in her dream for two people.


	6. Not Of The Emptiness That Waits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark yourself with what has meaning, in the end of everything.

Okay. So. He knows the cult thing is... is not going to end well. But _nothing_  is going to end well. And he _knows_  it's a cult. But... He doesn't want to die.  
  
  
He doesn't _want_  things to end the way he knows they have to.  
  
  
And the snake is about rebirth. About shedding the old and becoming something new and better. It's about _continuity_.

For so long, it was all he had (he says 'so long' and he is the youngest member but the years pass differently when the weight of the end of everything is dragging you down)   


And now he has Kevin, and Kevin's friends (who, with only one exception, have shrugged at the sight of the serpent on his arm) and he is not so alone.   
  
  
Kevin, he knows, doesn't just not believe in Joaquin's serpent. He doesn't believe in _anything_. And he wishes he could give him _something,_ **anything**  to fix the yawning emptiness which has devoured everything that isn't the mask his boyfriend wears.   


But love cannot fix Kevin. Love can't fix any of them.   
  
  
He prays, in the darkness. Prays to find Kevin again in the new world that _has_  to be coming. Offers his thanks for finding Kevin in this world. (Because Kevin is good and kind, even if he doesn't know who he is. Even if he is a patchwork of traits over an emptiness that rivals the darkness of space). Pleads for a good death, a good return.   
  
  
He knows Kevin hears him. (Kevin doesn't sleep much) but when they curl up under the patched blankets, he doesn't care. Kevin has no faith of his own, but Joaquin has enough for both of them.   
  
  
(And he warns that exception to the sight of the serpent. Warns him of what his father is planning. And in return, he gets laughter. And a sharp smile. And a number. 19 days. The followers of the snake can try to do whatever they want. They won't have time to get it done.)   


(He does not tell Kevin.)   



	7. When The Lights Go Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This isn't where you're supposed to be. But it's where you are. So you better make the best of it.

Veronica Lodge is not supposed to be here.  She _knows_  this.  Has had the knowledge etched onto her bones. 

 

But she doesn't care. 

It doesn't make any difference that her family should have been on the last colony ship before she was born. 

Because they weren't and she _is_  here. 

And she gathers the pieces of the life she might have had, in a different, kinder age.   
  
  
She makes sure she looks _perfect_  and she keeps her head up and she is defiant in the face of the end of everything.   
  
  
When everything else has been taken away, all you have is _you_. The final inch that cannot be taken.   
  
  
And she can see the end of tomorrows approaching.   
If not for everyone, at least for them.   
  
  
She can see it in the way the anger in Archie's songs is ever more obvious (the way he can no longer hold onto his hope and his denial) and the way Reggie's hands shake as he works out plays for games that will never happen (could never happen).   
She sees it in the brittleness of Kevin's smile and the way Joaquin grips his hand.   
She sees it in the way Jughead does not stop writing and has to be forced to eat.   
She sees it in the way Dilton is always silently crying, no one acknowledging the tears pouring freely down his cheeks.   


They are doomed. But they have always been doomed. They were doomed the moment they were born and she will /not/ bow her head now.   


She is Veronica Lodge and she _should_  have been born on a generation ship. Or on a new colony world.   


But she wasn't.

 

She was born here, on the dying Earth.   
  
  
But she still has her final inch. And she writes her will. And she takes it to Dilton. They all know he has something he uses to send signals out into the empty black. And she wants him to broadcast this.   
  
  
And he does. In exchange for more writing supplies for Jughead, he sends her words into the cosmos.   
  
  
"I, Veronica Lodge, being of sound mind and amazing body, do hereby bequeath the following to whatever sorry bastards are listening to this..."   
  
  
She gives them her love for her parents and Archie and Betty and her friends. She gives them her hatred for _everyone_  who contributed to the ending that is coming. She gives them everything, every inch. Who and what she is and should have been and cannot be and would have could have might have been.   
  
  
She waits in the strange little room until he's done. 

And gives him a smile "Bite your boyfriend for me Blue Eyes."   


"I'd ask you to return the favor but I don't want to think about what the three of you get up to." 

 

And she laughs, and leaves. And she wonders, in a way she hasn't before, who will get her message. Who will see her words.   


She wonders if they will follow the signal to it's origin. If they will find the corpse of the planet humanity destroyed. Or if, by then, there will be nothing left.   


And then she puts that wondering aside, and puts on her "I'm the most amazing person on the planet" face and goes to see Archie and Betty.   


If the world is finally going to sigh it's last, she wants to be with the people she loves most when it happens.   



	8. And The World Grows Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kindness and cruelty can be two sides of one coin. It's better not to flip it.

She is twelve, and her life is a mess. Everyone's life is a mess, but she's pretty sure she should get like… a bronze medal for this. 

 

Her family broke up because her dad's drinking combined with the whole 'leader of the local snake cult' thing drove her mom to finally leave him, and her brother spends all his time writing and sleeps in his boyfriend's weird inventor lab and she is the only kid her age around (because most people saw the writing on the wall) and the world is going to end before she turns 13.

 

She only knows that last part because she's got good ears and Dilton tells Jughead _everything_  and she's… not sure how she feels about that. She'd grown up under the certain knowledge that the world was going to end in her lifetime. But to know that it is so _close_ …

 

So it's a mess. But it's been a mess. It's been a mess for generations and the mess has only gotten worse. And she knows that she's lucky, in some ways. Between her mom and her brother, she always has plenty to eat. She has people who love her. She has warm blankets and a roof to keep off the rain. It's more than a lot of people have.

 

But… But the world is ending and she has never seen a real flower and it's not _fair_. None of it is fair.

 

She deserves better. They all deserve better. They're not going to get it though. Because some jerk a thousand years ago decided they could keep pushing problems off to the next generation. Until it was all so broken there was nothing left to fix.

 

And on that day, the last day things will be even approaching okay, Jughead spends the day with her. They talk about movies they'd like to have seen and imagine what songs sounded like and he pushes her on the swings until she feels like she's flying. A whole day, just the two of them. 

 

Then… then he whispers his goodbyes into her hair. He holds her close, and she reminds him that this is for the best. He hugs her until her ribs ache and she doesn't care. He promises her all sorts of things, and she wonders if he believes the words he's saying. She hopes so. Somewhere better… somewhere with sweet air and beautiful flowers and yummy food… 

 

She swallows what he gives her, sips from the glass of water and listens to him hum the lullaby that has been passed down in their family for generations. Her favorite song. 

  
Jellybean Jones does not live to see the end of everything. Her brother loved her too much to have her watch the last fires go out. Her death is swift and soft and quiet and if there is mercy in the universe, where she is going next is a better place than the one she left.


	9. Do Not Forget My Child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the dreams are gone, and you have to wake up... who are you?

Archie dreams of tomorrows. He dreams that there will be a news bulletin (he's not sure how'd they'd hear about it. Such details do not matter to dreams) and there's a ship (he doesn't care what sort, generation or colony or _flying saucer_  it doesn't matter) and they're getting _off_  this dying world. They're going somewhere far away, somewhere better. Where there's green grass and blue sky and clean water. Where there is a future.

 

It doesn't matter that the last ship left twenty years ago, that there aren't the _resources_  for another one, much less the infrastructure to build it.

 

He knows Jughead (when he lifts his head from ever more frantic writing) thinks he's silly for his dreams. But Jug's his friend and won't ever say anything. He needs his dreams, and they both know it. The dreams of just _one more_  ship, just _one more_  last hope are what's helping Archie keep it together.

 

The other thing that's helping is the music. His guitar is ancient and he has to be careful with it but music is… is an outlet. While his heart is dreaming, his soul is screaming and the music lets it _out_. He writes songs (lyrics and chords and everything) and practices and plays until his fingers bleed.

 

And his songs…

 

His songs are prayers for those stuck in this living hell. His songs are prayers for those who have gone to other places, better places.   
His songs are _rage_  at those who have left them behind.   
His songs are hatred and anger at their ancestors, those who _handed_  them this mess.   
His songs are fear, for the cold dark that is coming when they are out of tomorrows.

 

He told Ronnie once, while Betty was asleep between them, that he and Josie and her band are mirrors. He smiles at the world, because it might want to kick his teeth in, but if he stops smiling he'll start screaming and never stop. And his music is the only safe way he has to get it all _out_. And Valerie and Josie and Melody make all sorts of jokes, about Rome burning and the Titanic sinking and walking among the bombs with their instruments, but their music… their music is a celebration of everything good humanity has ever had to offer.

 

Ronnie had smiled and kissed him and nudged Betty awake to join them.

 

And when Jughead (his eyes red rimmed from tears, but Jughead's been like that for weeks now and he won't tell anyone _why_ , just huddles beside Dilton when they ask) tells him "The end is coming Arch." he's not sure how to reply.

 

"The end's been coming for a while Jughead."   
"No. It's _coming_  Archie. We've got two weeks left."

 

And he realizes what his friend is telling him. He realizes why Jughead's been more obsessive about his writing than usual. Why Dilton's been so silent. And he can't blame them for not telling everyone. Because it feels like someone has just punched him in the gut and…

 

"Two weeks?"   
"Yeah. Dilton's run the numbers more times than I want to think about."

 

And Archie has been dreaming of tomorrows his entire life. Of gleaming ships and new worlds and being _saved_  from the fate that has been his since he took his first breaths. And he's been finally told "Here are the number of tomorrows you have left." And there aren't enough. There aren't _nearly_  enough. But…

 

"How fast do you think we can plan a wedding?"   
  


And Jughead's staring at him, skeptical confusion all over his face. So Archie tries to explain. "So I can marry Betty and Ronnie. I mean, I know we can't do all that 30th century stuff with the dresses and flowers and food but Dilton's got to have stuff we can make rings out of…"

 

And he trails off in the face of Jughead's somewhat hysterical laughter.

 

"Oh fuck. You're serious. Okay. Yeah. I'll get Dilton to make you some rings. Better go pop the questions first though. I don't want my boyfriend working on something that'll just get chucked at your head."

  
And Archie is out of tomorrows. Or will be soon. But this… This is one last dream he can have. He's going to marry the loves of his life and he is going to write them a song. And he'll probably need Valerie to help him, because he doesn't know _how_  to write things that aren't anger and hate… but it's something. (And if everything else he writes in the coming days is pure rage, is a desperate, primal scream at those long dead bastards who got them /into/ this mess… well, if he doesn't get it out, he'll explode. And he wants to enjoy his last tomorrows, as much as he can.)


	10. That Love Is What Makes Us Human

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes it's better to live in a dream. Dreams do not ask so much of you.

Cheryl Blossom is five years old when she decides the world she was born in was not _her_  world. That her world is somewhere _better_. And her brother, her twin, her other half had helped her. He sheltered her from their parents and didn't force her to interact with the reality she had decided she didn't like. And could anyone blame her?

 

The world in her imagination is so much _nicer_  than the world she lives in. In her mind, there are flowers and fancy dresses and everything is _wonderful_.

 

She stays there more and more until she finds she doesn't know how to get out. Not that she really wants to get out. The real world is a dark and dying place, full of people making hard choices and with no hope for anything better. _Her_  world has parties and dancing and she is popular and her parents love her.

 

Jason was her anchor, for a while. Her touchstone. He'd always been able to negotiate the gaps between where Cheryl lived and where everyone else was.

 

Cheryl Blossom is seventeen years old when her brother (who loved her so much) commits suicide with his girlfriend. Because she was pregnant and neither of them could bear to bring a child into the nightmare that is their future and there weren't any other options. And he leaves her a note, explaining everything. In it, he says he hopes she can read his words. That this bit of his reality touches hers.

 

And then… then she gets stuck. Not in her dream world, which has been her home and safe haven (where the trees are green and the school isn't falling down and everyone is a better version of themselves) but in that _time_. She is forever seventeen.

 

For two years, she is seventeen. She is seventeen and beautiful and her brother is captain of the varsity football team and he's the best water polo player Riverdale has ever seen and he's going to take her boating on Fourth of July.

 

And then Reggie (who is also a football player but not as good as her brother, and he's handsome and he'd have taken her to the last dance but she already had a date and he's a gentleman so if he asks her before anyone else, she'll think of going with him) touches her arm, ever so gently. And he asks her about her day.

 

So she tells him. About classes and the dance he _knows_  is coming up and the football game (her brother had been amazing but she'd been even more amazing as their best cheerleader).

 

A small part of her, the part of her which is not lost in the dream and does those things necessary to keep the rest of her going, whispers 'Something is happening' but she ignores it. _Her_  world is not ending. Her world has an eternity of tomorrows ahead of it.

 

...Her world has room for two.

 

She gets Reggie on the dance committee. It's the least she can do, after he's been so nice to her. And she's pretty sure Jason will be okay with her dating one of his teammates. She'll ask first though.

 

(When the end comes, they are dancing to music only she can hear. A boy who clings to the lies and a girl in a dream. It is not a good end. But they are not alone, and they are happy.)

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be adding more to this as I write it (and adding more tags probably). Hopefully people enjoy it? I'll be putting up some stuff on my tumblr for this verse and I've got a playlist on YouTube. Yay, right?


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